


Feel Me, On Your Lips

by robogalaxy



Series: deadlyroses 🌹 [25]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Cunnilingus, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Sex, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hand Jobs, Love Bites, Making Out, One Shot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Present Tense, Reunion, Reunion Sex, Sex, Sweet/Hot, Tender Sex, Undressing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, anyway this was extremely self indulgent, because well. it's more detailed than in the M fics, is BEST sex, some of this shows up for like .3 seconds but they get tagged on the E fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24455338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robogalaxy/pseuds/robogalaxy
Summary: Rose returns home.Home is where the heart is, wherehisheart is, waiting for him to take her back into his arms as he begs for her to do the same.(edited to fit new headcanons presented by Crown Tundra DLC)
Relationships: Olive | Oleana/Rose | Chairman Rose
Series: deadlyroses 🌹 [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162211
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Feel Me, On Your Lips

**Author's Note:**

> title from cigarettes after sex's song "heavenly."
> 
> EDIT 10/26/2020: DLC changed storyline a bit and I had to edit story to fit the new narrative QoQ so thus i pushed up the publication date as well!!

He takes a deep breath, feels his hands clam up before he wipes them on the sides of his pants, and shuffles towards the marbled exterior of his home. It stands tall and presents itself as gorgeous while the trees lining the gardens shake in the wind that usually precedes a downpour. Rose thinks that he doesn't belong here anymore, really - it's been a long year since he's even been in the vicinity of this neighborhood, in _Galar_ , even - and the heavy weight of his guilt remains painful upon his shoulders. He took his leave of absence to rid himself of some of the pain, but the heavy heart in his chest tells him that even his purposeful leave wasn't enough to erase the anxiety that remains boiling in the pit of his stomach.

_This place is yours, Antony._ _You should remember. You’re home._

The sound of his shoes’ slight thuds against the cobblestone driveway echo in the midst of his cloudy thoughts, muffled as Rose tenses up in preparation to see what was once where he lived out his daily formalities and where he would continue them - the catch being that he will now live them as a changed man. After what seems like hours of wading through deep waters, Rose inhales sharply. He pulls the silver key out of the peacoat’s pocket, letting out a deep exhale. He unlocks the door, fingers trembling as he pulls the key out of the lock. He opens it with shaky hands and tiptoes in while cold, anxious chills shoot up his arms. 

Rose is an outsider to this house now, he notices, coupled with the eerie realization that nothing major has changed and yet everything feels bizarre. Objectively, at least, there isn’t an aspect to the home that has undergone any renovation. No paint jobs, no furniture rearrangement, and _hell_ , even the crossword puzzle books that sit on the coffee table are stacked as neatly as the man remembers them. To Rose, however, the walls now feel ancient. He shouldn’t be looking at them with such awe, but the sight of walls painted in a heated crimson rather than varied different skies and walls from around the different regions of the world throws him off. The decorative paintings that hang on the walls with precision seem to glare at him, whispering to each other through their bronze frames - it’s as if they're waiting for Rose to make yet another fatal mistake, much like they’re betting all they’re worth on the fifty/fifty odds. 

_I promised I would never think of such an act again, though, and I’d love if they knocked off the petty gossip._

He cautiously watches his every step on familiar pristine floors, panic arising as he imagines what would happen if a loose floorboard shrieks under his weight.

_Do they even still recognize my footsteps?_

To avoid finding out the answer, he slips off his shoes and sets them against the furthest wall from the entrance. Rose sticks his hands in his coat pockets while his eyes scan his house (as it will take months to even call this a home again), his footsteps eventually stopping in front of an intertwined staircase. Eyes trace the shape of the stairs, ears remember the sound of footsteps stomping to keep his eyes open long enough to make it to his room before crashing, fingertips turning cold as he recalls the cool metal handrail. He has been reminded several times during recent therapy sessions that from here on out, if he was truly serious about his reformation and self-improvement, that there was no other way to go but up. In the most literal sense, Rose takes this advice to heart. He clamors up the stairs quietly, the chills on his arms intensifying thanks to the contact between his hand and the cold metal beneath it. 

_The house is a lot more ornate than I remember, isn’t it?_

He takes in this return to form, remembering that his days hiding away from the world are now behind him. Rose reminds himself that what he did was awful, he knows it.

_Who doesn't know it?_

That's the question he's asking himself, pacing towards the back of the floor once he sets foot on the second story. 

_Forgiveness will not be so easy to gain back._

A small chirp passes by him, and Rose turns in its direction. He pauses as he looks out a window to see a small Rufflet fly by, followed by a quaint looking Pidove. Is he like them, now? Free and flying high?

_Not exactly. They didn’t risk the lives of many for the sake of their own fears. They are free, but they aren’t as flawed._

Rose shouldn't question it. He has bigger things to concentrate on, formal and intricate apologies to give, a new lease on life to adjust to—

" _Antony_?” a voice calls from across the main lounge. Its sudden intrusion into the atmosphere of the room hits the brakes on Rose's train of thought. The voice, he observes, is swollen, calling out for him as if Antony is the only name it wishes to say for eternity. “No...no _way_. Is this....?"

_I know her voice. I’d know it anywhere._

The woman rushes towards him, holding onto his hands with a suffocating grasp once she reaches him.

_His hair. It’s curly. He hasn’t had time to straighten it. He's....he's back._

She’s obviously been sobbing, and her hands shake, but they’re placed in Rose’s for real, _for real._ They're Rose’s hands, there isn’t any doubt in her mind, and she can't help but stare down at them in a sense of wonder. They're soft but clammy, calloused as they always were when he'd sign his scarlet signature across the bottom of formal papers, but it doesn't matter how they feel, for they're _here_ , held in her own hands, tangible and existing. She wonders to herself if these hands were even more so calloused when they were roughed up in the mines, but Oleana realizes that this is not the time for the past. This is a new future for them both. Rose looks to Oleana, his voice caught in his throat. 

_My love._

His composure is about to break, much like a dam that can finally crumble under pressure and flow out into the world through an ocean of tears.

"Ollie," he mutters as he instinctively rubs his thumbs over the tops of her hands, "how'd you get in here?" Oleana drops her hold on Rose’s hands to fish a silver key much like his own out of her cardigan’s pocket. Her soft, tear filled eyes look solemnly into his, hoping the item would tell the story for her. 

"I've never let go of it, you know," she explains anyway, "because I _knew_ someday I'd find myself back here. I knew you'd come back. You'd return. I wasn't wrong. I wasn't dumb for waiting."

“That certain,” Rose says, “you’re still so, _so_ certain about us. You’ve always been. And how long have you been here, love? Waiting for me?”

“An hour,” she responds as the key disappears from their sight and heads back into the lavender pocket, “give or take. Have I overstayed my welcome? Any welcome?” Her voice is scratchy and asks genuinely if Rose is upset with her. How insane it was for Oleana to even assume Rose could be angry with her for awaiting his arrival, so peacefully and with so much compassion. Anger wasn’t even a possibility. How she is not close to chewing him out, though, he doesn't understand. If anyone had a right to be angered, it was Oleana.

"Ollie, my dearest, don't even _dare_ try to believe that you could ever overstay your welcome.” Oleana’s anxieties fly away with the way Rose assures he wants her around, and her eyes linger on his lips, and she swears he is doing the same to hers.

Rose stares at the woman who has been by his side for all these years, always first to speak to him the early Monday mornings of every week as well as the first every month, relaying serious talks of business with him. Her blonde hair is shorter now, Rose notices, cut down to her chin and pushed back with a Tsareena barrette. He hasn't seen that thing so long. To see it pinned in her hair left his heart beating out of place, her whole being leaving him with no choice but to stand in infatuation. _It's still so... pink,_ he thinks, _still so shiny under these sweltering lights._ The shine of her accessory is nothing compared to the feeling of his heavy heart lightening as he looks at Oleana’s face, though, realizing all along that he had desired nothing more than having Oleana be the first person he met face-to-face with again.

“...I haven’t gotten to hold you in what seems like years,” Rose says without any warning, the avalanche of his affections crashing down at last, “at least, not in any way I’ve wanted to.” His treks around the world only had him think of holding Oleana's hand and kissing it softly, but it’s been way too long since he's gotten to actually _embrace_ her, envelop her in the intimacy he assumes both of them have longed for.

_I should've come back sooner. I should've spoken to her instead of just talking through the ink of hotel pens._

“I want you to,” Oleana whispers, “and I don’t think I want you to let go. No, no,” she continues as her lip primps up, the action managing to be both absolutely joyous and heart wrenching at the same time, “I _refuse_ to have you let go.”

Rose is close to weeping now, unashamed to cry, pulling Oleana into his strong embrace and stroking her hair delicately. She melts into him without hesitation, burying her face into his shoulder. 

_He’s warm, still, like a blanket in the dead of winter._

“I love you,” she mumbles into the fabric of his coat, “I missed you. Arceus, I missed _all_ of you. This voice. This warmth. Do you regret leaving?"

“I’ve longed to say the same to you, my darling,” Rose replies as Oleana lifts her head to stare him in the eyes again, “and say it I will. I love you. I missed you.” She smiles delicately as Rose cups a hand to her cheek, her mind racing with all the other unspoken things she wishes to verbalize. As well, she flusters at this specific touch, reddening as his thumb caresses over her cheekbone with sincerity. They haven’t gotten to be so _close_ , and it shouldn’t be any surprise to either of them that these moments of solitude paired with the eager touches of each other leave them … _craving_ , for lack of a better word. 

"And?"

"And yes. Yes. I've never regretted anything more." Oleana feels that Rose's hands start shaking as they comb through her hair, short hiccups interrupting what he is sure is a pathetic excuse for a reunion. He doesn't want to talk about him leaving right now, however; Oleana wants to push away the subject as well.

“I love you,” Rose repeats, finally deciding to rid himself of the heavy coat he’s worn since leaving his car, “and I’ll say it as many times as I can, Ollie. To make up for lost time.” The coat is thrown aside to where Oleana sat moments earlier, not hung up to rid itself of wrinkles as it has been for the past three years he’s owned it.

“Then why waste even more of it? Say it again,” Oleana asks, “say you love me.”

“I love you.” 

“Say it again,” she pleads, green eyes staring longingly at the mouth that speaks the words to her.

“I love you,” Rose responds, having to stop himself from running his fingers through Oleana’s hair. 

“... _Again_.”

“I _love_ you, Oleana.” 

“And _again_.” 

“Love, is there…” Rose smirks as he looks Oleana up and down, easily recognizing the flirtatious edge to her voice, “is there something _else_ you’re wanting from me?” By the way she pulls his face towards hers and immediately sinks her lips into his, Rose believes he has an answer. Time to respond to it through words, however, has already left, as the way she roughly kisses him, parting her lips so he can come in, reliving the moments they’ve shared in secret for years, preoccupies Rose’s thoughts. He’s already forgotten what else he could say to make this moment any better, as his mind is currently clouded with the way it feels to slip off Oleana’s clothes. Soft as her cardigan was, they both could come to a conclusion that it was barely needed anymore.

“Are you okay with this?” Oleana says in between their brief stops for breath, as if there was even a possibility for Rose to decline. She gets a response in the form of him moving her hands to his shirt, tracing them over the buttons and asking implicitly to undo them, hell, _rip_ them off of him if she wanted. Feeling the warmth of his chest underneath them amplifies Oleana’s heart rate and conjures up terribly dirty thoughts. She doesn’t hesitate a second, her fingers moving fast to take the shirt off of Rose as his hands hold onto her waist. They make their way down to her hips slowly and ask through a tug of her pants' waistband if it is okay to rid her of them.

“If you’re okay with it,” Rose mumbles in response as Oleana gives him the go-ahead to slowly strip her. She shivers as her legs become bare, chills adorning her thighs, but the rest of her warms up as she successfully unbuttons the last button on Rose’s shirt, her hands frantic to brush the sleeves off of his shoulders and have the shirt fall to the floor as she steps out of her pants and kicks them aside. She excuses herself from his embrace to look at him and just stare, hands trembling as she realizes there is no longer a need for a filter. 

_He’s here, I’m here. We’re here._

“Antony,” she says as she frantically tosses her shirt off to the side and follows it up by unclasping her bra, “there’s no need to be asking such stupid questions.” Like he had done with her before, Oleana grabs Rose’s hands and places them on the loose straps on her shoulders, moving them so the scarlet clothing falls off of her to reveal her bare chest moving slowly with each and every breath, “I want this. You want this.”

“My dearest,” Rose begins as he takes in the sight of Oleana’s body again, reddening with every word and almost completely bare minus her dark, black underwear, a bow sitting on the waistband as if it waits to be undone, “I want _you._ All of you.” His voice doesn’t shake as he confesses his desire, and Oleana only pulls Rose’s arms so he’s in front of her, pinning her to the wall. She feels his erection pressing against her leg, envisioning just what could be done with it later as she bites a lip. 

“Then have me,” she pleads, “as long as you let me have you too.” 

“I think we’ve done enough talking,” he admits as he lifts her arms over her head, his chest already gleaming with sweat as it presses against Oleana’s, “don’t you?” 

“If that’s the case, shut up and show me just how much you’ve longed to touch me,” Oleana mutters, “won’t you, love?” 

“For as long as I can,” he responds before finally sealing the conversation off with a kiss, messy and off-balanced. His grasp on Oleana’s arms loosens and she escapes, tugging down on Rose’s pants and pulling them off of him. She wants to focus on the way his lips stick to hers, but she doesn’t. Instead, her hand inches down over her underwear to tease herself, gently rubbing at the growing warmth between her legs, waiting for Rose to notice. 

“I’ve forgotten to tell you,” he whispers in her ear, “I adore your haircut.”

“It looks nice, doesn’t it?” Oleana responds as she lets out small moans in hopes they catch Rose’s attention. It’s fine for her to do this herself (how many times she has while only imagining Rose in bed with her is a number she doesn’t have the time to count), but now that he’s here and able to do it _himself_ … 

“It makes this,” he stops before leaning his head into the crook of Oleana’s neck, kissing from her jaw until he reaches the where her neck meets her shoulder, where he pauses to suck at her skin, leaving her tempted to increase the tempo of her self-stimulation, “ _much_ easier to do.” 

“Leave as many as you want, Antony, _please_ ,” Oleana says, the last of her words ending up airy. Rose notices the change in her tone and looks down to finally notice her hand. He flushes a bit and wonders why he didn’t start doing it to her first.

“That’s why you’re sounding like that, is it?” he teases as he lifts her hand off of her and backs away. 

“Yes, and… and where are you going?” Oleana implores. There's a small panic in her voice; she _refuses_ to have Rose leave her again.

“Elsewhere,” Rose responds as he holds out a hand, “surely you don’t want me to go down on you _here_ , do you? But,” he continues, “if you can’t wait and want it _now_ , of course…”

“No, take me elsewhere,” Oleana says as her hand squeezes tight onto Rose’s, “I’ve missed your bed.”

* * *

Velvet pillowcases feel like heaven on her back as Oleana lays on them, eyes shut tight as Rose slips what remains of her clothes off of her. There’s no sound but the anticipated breaths Oleana takes as she waits for Rose to speak, to kiss, to do _something_ rather than nothing at all.

“Oh, dearest,” she finally hears as the sensation of warm hands caressing up her legs takes over, “where should I start?”

“How kind of you to ask,” Oleana mumbles, “but at this point, I don’t mind.”

“I’ll make sure to ask before anything, though, my love,” Rose responds, his hands moving over her inner thighs, his thumbs caressing where he’s always known her to be sensitive, “like this. Is it okay for me to do this?” 

“ _Mhmm_ ,” she mumbles, “it’s okay.” 

“Good,” he responds as he repeats soft, circular motions, “I’m glad to hear.” 

“That’s... _nice_ ,” Oleana replies, “really, really nice.”

“But is it enough?” Rose questions as he stops his movements, “I won’t be able to go on if it isn’t—”

“No, no, I know what I want. Grab onto me,” she interrupts, “keep me steady.” Rose doesn’t hesitate and follows the orders he’s been given, hands gripping onto the soft skin of Oleana’s hips. He resists to go ahead and place his mouth down onto her, waiting for her to make a move first. Within a moment, Oleana sighs and pushes herself forward onto Rose’s lips, an implicit ask for him to start on her. He does as told, holding her steady as he kisses at her softly at first with enough pressure for her to start whimpering, but nothing too intense.

_Not yet, not until she wants it._

Oleana holds her head back as she conceals a slowly growing smile, biting a lip as the beginnings of audible moans escape her mouth. 

“ _Mhmm,_ ” she mutters softly as she feels the force of his tongue against her, thanking him for continuing the circular motions he had employed earlier on, “exactly. Just continue as you are now, darling, _please_.” Oleana opens her eyes for only a moment to see Rose’s head between her legs, eyes shut as he focuses on the sensation that he’s getting just from pleasing her. The sight only drives her to ask for more, to pull his head down farther, to apply so much more pressure than he’s currently giving, but every second of the electricity that shoots up her legs as he presses his mouth against her keeps her from forming these requests. She can only utter his name in between the moans the feeling elicits from her and tilt her head back as she takes it all in, fingers twirling around strands of his hair. It's wonderful that even after so long, it still felt like second nature for her to be so intimate.

“My _l-love_ ,” she stutters as her hands move to lightly grasp onto the sheets below her, “oh, darling. I’ve missed this too much.” Rose’s pace is slowly fastening but keeping steady. He switches between kissing on Oleana's inner thighs and running his tongue gently across every inch of her that he can, smiling to himself as Oleana blurts out his name in between hitched breaths and muttered curses in response to the pleasurable sensation.

Rose is too concentrated on his own movements, however, to notice that Oleana begins to grind herself against him, eager to intensify the feeling. She lets out a satisfied moan as she pushes herself against him, and it echoes against the walls of the room as the friction between them amplifies.

“W-well? Is that nice?” she purrs, “ _Well_?” The man between her legs only groans in response as he recognizes what is happening, pleased with Oleana’s actions. He lifts his head up for a bit and looks up to his lover’s reddened face, blotted with blush and with eyes that stare at him like he’s her whole world. Rose wonders if Oleana can notice he's looking at her like she is the greatest treasure of all, committed to keeping that sparkle in her eyes alive.

“...Tighter?” he asks as his grip on Oleana’s hips strengthens, “So I can make sure you don’t get away, my darling.” 

“Of _course_ ,” she mumbles before things continue as they were before. However, this time Oleana’s voice grew louder as she grinds herself against the scruff of Rose’s beard and the softness of his lips while she listens to his muffled groans. Her heart paces out of rhythm as she begs for Rose to take it further, "and f-faster. _Quicker_ , if you don't mind." He does as such and without hesitation, lips grazing against her clit before sucking onto it for moments at a time. He lets go to let her recharge before going back to repeat the pattern. Oleana, though in no way unsatisfied, becomes tired of these feelings, eager to yet again kiss upon the face of the man she has loved for so many years. 

She moves his hands off her waist and then lifts his head off of her. Rose takes this as an excuse to get off of his knees and finally get up onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Oleana and kissing her deeply. His tongue enters her mouth as she tastes the wet upon his lips and feels the heat radiating from his gasps of air. She lets go of the kiss for only a moment before pressing her forehead to his, breathing heavily as she looks up into his eyes. 

_They’ve never looked greener, nor more happy to gaze upon me._

“I love you, Antony,” Oleana mutters as she pulls Rose’s face closer, her whispered words hot breath on his lips before she moves a hand down below his waist to stroke him, careful not to go too fast.

“ _Oh,_ ” he says, lips pressing together in surprise before he finally lets out a small groan, “you d-don’t have to do this, my darling—”

“I said what I said, Antony,” she interrupts while placing soft kisses along his jawline, “I _love_ you, and I _want_ you, and I’m not going to be ready if you aren’t.” 

“I assure you, Oleana,” he answers, “I’m _more_ than ready. Can’t you feel it?”

“I _can_ ,” she responds as she continues her motions, “but I’m not stopping. Not if it makes you feel good. If you want me to, though,” she says, “I’ll quit—”

“ _N-no_ ,” Rose responds with another groan, “it’s not going to hurt me any if you continue. But, if I may…” he falters as he holds Oleana’s face in his hands before he slowly trails them down to her shoulders and even further, brushing his fingers over her breasts while leaning down to leave lovebites on her collarbone. Rose’s hands caress the slight curves of Oleana’s body, and she trembles under his intact, sophisticated touch. His hands, though still calloused and still clammy, feel wonderful as they slide down to Oleana’s waist. She tries to slow her breathing in the first calm moment since they’d first embraced, and Rose looks at her with so much adoration, she can tell, as his hands stop their journey down her body and remain still. Things feel too emotionally intimate now, she thinks, and the hand once arousing Rose now rises up to hold his face. Her thumb runs across the bridge of his nose as he sighs and leans to kiss at Oleana’s forehead.

“I adore you, Oleana,” he mutters as he looks his lover in the eyes, “and I’ve never adored anyone more. In fact, adoration may be too weak of a word,” he admits with a small smile adorning his face, "but I love you...and I'm sorry." Oleana smiles back softly, responding with a kiss to the tip of Rose’s nose before leaning back to study him.

“No, don't apologize. I don't want to hear you apologize right now," she implores. "But yes..I _love_ you,” she whispers, her voice strained, “I do. I love you. I’ve loved you. I’ll continue to love you.”

“...Then say it again, my darling,” Rose asks, his hands resuming their trip down Oleana’s body before stopping inches above her hips, "say you love me.” 

“I love you,” she complies.

“Once more?” 

“I love you.”

“And _again_?” Rose asks as he starts to lay Oleana down, a hand sneaking down to toy at her clit as a way to fluster her as she slowly sinks back down onto the bed below them.

“I lo- _love_ _you_ ,” she moans as he continues to rub her, fingers teasing at her before they enter into her slowly, eliciting a gasp from her before it’s replaced with a pleased sigh. Oleana bites her lip, eyes shut tight for a brief moment before they open again to watch Rose’s lips move as he sweet talks her. 

“ _Again_ ,” Rose asks, his fingers pushing in and out of her slowly while he finds immense joy in watching her try catch her breath and looking at her hair spread across the velvet pillowcases. 

“This could v-very well act as your apology, love... but i-is there something else you’re wanting?” Oleana stutters with a sly smile, her legs opening a bit wider as to answer the question Rose doesn’t even have to ask.

“ _You_ ,” he admits, “for _so_ long.”

“Then _have_ me,” Oleana whispers as she tugs Rose down to messily trail lovebites down his neck before letting him go, “until we can take no more of each other.”

“Oh, my darling Oleana,” Rose mutters as leans down to place a short, achingly sweet kiss on his lover’s cheek, “that won’t happen.” 

“Then _please,_ ” she begs of him as she kisses him with parted lips, “ _please_ take as much of me as you can handle. _"_

* * *

Oleana murmurs her affections for Rose straight into his ear with as close as it is to her lips as he kisses upon her neck. He smiles against her skin every time a thrust of his causes her to falter in her sentences; they get interrupted by airy moans, cut off by the ecstatic mumbles of his name. Rose groans faintly every once in a while as he holds Oleana under him, his hand acting as a pillow for her head while his other arm lies under her back. 

“Antony?” she says as her legs wrap tighter around Rose’s waist, pushing him deeper into her with every forward motion.

“ _Mhmm?_ ” he responds as he takes his lips off of where he was previously kissing her neck, “Something you need, my love?”

“Yes,” she answers in between hitched breaths and louder moans, “until you’re done, _we’re_ done…”

“What of it, my love?” 

“Please,” Oleana asks of him, pulling his face down so only inches separate them from each other, “don’t take your lips off of mine. However long it takes, I don’t _care_ ,” she continues, “ _don’t take your lips off of mine_.” Her desire falls into action as she closes the gap between them, missing her mark completely but having Rose guide her back to his lips, still tasting of her slightly and almost certainly soon to be chapped. He ignores the rest of the world for her, only caring that their chests stick together and that she moans for him to speed up as her hands almost scratch into his back. He groans and peppers a multitude of _I love you_ ’s into the medley of her gasps, knowing that if she were not in her current position, she’d answer back with an _I love you too._

She ignores the rest of the world for him, lying down and taking in all of what she could not have for ages, sweating and reddening for both their benefits on the bedsheets of a man still rich with his overwhelming passion for her. 

It doesn’t take much longer for Rose to admit that he’s close to finishing – that it is all thanks to Oleana’s impeccable beauty, love, and companionship. Oleana doesn’t say a word back, but nods as she feels him getting faster, losing all sense of pacing as he races towards his peak. 

He calls out with barely any voice as he clenches his eyes shut and pauses in place, his legs visibly shaking for a moment before he comes; they stop alongside his previously frantic movements as soon as its over. His breath shakes as he tries to collect himself, his mind focused on watching the woman beneath him shuddering slowly, moaning quietly and whispering out his name in a tone that can only be described as saccharine.

"A... _Antony_ ," she smiles softly as she is lying down, careful not to have too much of his climax leak out of her and onto the sheets, "I missed hearing you pant like that." Her legs begin to tremble slightly as well, but Rose realizes that this is because they have been wrapped around his waist for so long. Slowly pulling out of her (the mess he left behind able to be easily cleaned up later), he caresses her face with the back of his hand and lays her legs down. 

“What can I do for you now, my dearest?” he asks. He receives his answer fairly quickly as Oleana pulls his head back down onto her, whispering that he best do it quickly if he wanted to be the reason for her finish.

_She has always been so certain._

It is anything but silent as Oleana’s heart rate quickens and moans spill out of her, legs trembling as she feels Rose’s kisses against her thighs, and legs shaking as she absentmindedly grinds against him again. She clenches onto the sheets and her knuckles turn white before her legs briefly become numb and tremble for a bit as she comes. Her chest heaves with deep breaths as she tries to regulate her breathing, her short hair allowing for all her lovebites to be visible in the dim light of the bedroom. Rose lifts his head up from her legs after he’s sure she’s finished and watches as she opens her arms wide for him to fall into.

“C’mere, Antony,” Oleana says as Rose kisses up her body as a way to calm themselves down in the afterglow, stopping after a quick kiss to her cheekbone so he can lay his head down upon her chest, “let me hold you for as long as I can. To make up for lost time.”

* * *

 _The downpour came after all_ , Rose thinks as lightning shoots across the sky and the rain hits hard against the roof, his arms wrapped around Oleana as they stand on the balcony. They’re draped in a blanket and wearing old League shirts and shorts that were buried deep in Rose’s dressers, counting the seconds between seeing lightning strike and hearing the thunder boom after it. The faint sounds of the running washing machine downstairs and the scent of their freshly washed hair makes the scene a bit calmer, more domestic. Oleana sips tea from a Macros Cosmos mug, the steam from it visible against the darkening night sky.

“Antony,” she mumbles as Rose pecks the top of her head, “I know it’s only been a night, and a... _busy_ one at that," she blushes, "but... I have to ask now."

" _Why_ ," Rose replies, "is that your question? Why I left?"

"I want an answer," Oleana demands as she takes another sip of the honey sweetened tea, "and I want one now. It doesn't have to be complex. I don't want complexity right now," her voice cracks a tad as she shivers in the wind of the storm and the wet of her hair falls onto her shoulders, " just a few words will suffice for now. Why did you leave? And why did you decide to come back now?"

"I didn't deserve to come back," Rose began while he absentmindedly placed his hands over the ones that held the mug out in front of them. The hot of the drink could burn his hands, he thinks, but he'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all. He felt so much at once in this moment, but carried on with an answer as to not worry his lover any further, "so I left Galar behind. I ruined my own life. Galar's reputation. My mental health, my friends, my family, my love... I couldn't come back so easily. Not with the usual smile I've forced myself to wear."

"I understand. But why did you come back? Why without a word? You kept stringing me along with your pristine letters, Antony. I could've expected for you to sign your name on the stationary with a date and location at some point, but..."

"But it seems you already knew where to look," he said as the rain fell harder down onto the garden outside and Oleana cuddled in closer to him as if he was going to vanish into thin air again, "and that's just like you, darling. One step ahead."

"We'll be taking the next one together, right?" Oleana mumbled, "The next step."

"Promise," Rose affirms while thumbs caress over Oleana's slender fingers with motions that explicitly show he cares, "I promise from now on, we'll walk in unison." 

"Alright," she nods while Rose lifts up a hand to wipe off the tear that falls down her face, "in unison." 

_All I want now is to sleep - and all I need is to have her laying beside me._

_All I want now is to rest - and I hope his chest still proves itself a worthy pillow._

**Author's Note:**

> 🥺👉👈 uh..........so.......i felt like Smut but also Very Emotionally Passionate Smut...........okay, that's all.......
> 
> thank you SO much for reading! feel free to leave kudos, comments, and bookmarks~ <3


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